Married To The Mad Vampire Lord novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72: The banquet_Part 3

When they got to the double door of the hall, Belle’s heart had long steadied its nervous throbbing. A man by the door took their cloak and gestured for them into the hall with a smile that didn’t reach his light red eyes when they fell on the mad vampire, who almost everyone feared in Nightbrook. He looked somewhat nervous as he took Rohan’s overcoat, and the moment he announced their arrival, all the activities in the lively hall immediately paused, and all eyes turned to them.

Belle could feel herself becoming nervous again, but she squared her shoulders and kept her head held high in the air. The hall was large and grand, just like the ones in Aragonia during the seasonal ball. Everyone was extravagantly dressed, the women in ball gowns and the men in suits. Some had been dancing awhile ago in the center of the hall, some mingling with each other, when they stopped to look towards the entrance at the new arrivals.

She felt Rohan begin to lead her further into the hall, and the eyes that followed them made her slightly unstable on her feet, but thanks to the strong anchor gripping her hand, there was no way she would fall. Apart from the red eyes and a few slightly different shades of eyes that belonged to the humans in the hall, Belle would have believed it to be a season ball in Aragonia.

Rohan was leading her to the high chair in the hall where the king sat with his queen beside him, both looking at her husband as they approached without sparing her a glance. Their deep red eyes were wary as they remained glued to him. She could see the king’s hand gripping the arm of his chair a bit too tightly and his jaw working with his eyes narrowed.

When they came to stand before the rulers of Nightbrook, the silence in the hall was too loud—she thought she could hear her own breathing.

"Your Majesty," she heard Rohan say calmly, without bothering to bow. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

She didn’t follow him. She knew her manners and knew not to be disrespectful and quietly curtsied with a bow of her head.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," she greeted, and finally the man looked away from her husband and to her. Belle felt her breath momentarily trapped in her lungs as his eyes stared into hers as if he was looking into her very soul. He stared at her so intensely she felt the great urge to hide behind Rohan, but then she didn’t do that and stood her ground. However, she dug her fingers into her husband’s hand to give herself the assurance that she wasn’t alone and had a partner.

The king looked younger than she had expected, with his hair having no strands of gray like the king of Aragonia. His were ebony black, with pale unblemished skin. He did not look a day older than thirty-five.

"You must be the Dawson daughter," came the king’s deep voice that rang loudly in the silent hall. It wasn’t a question but a statement.

Belle did not look away and tried to keep her gaze on him.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Tell me something—what are the thoughts of your people when they sent you into our land?"

Belle knew immediately he was compelling her from the cold she felt in her bones and the way his voice turned layered, not to mention the gentle squeeze on the back of her hand that came from Rohan as if to warn her it was happening. Alarm bells went off in her head.

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